


Collateral Damage

by SBG



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, F/M, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both of them are broken in different ways and also in the exact same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick tag to 4.19 that took way too long to write, considering how it ended up. Everything subject to change. ;)

He was good. He was okay, he was fine. His leg hurt, but it wasn’t crushed. His chest felt tight, but it might have been from that little bonding moment he’d had with Steve just as well as it could have been from inhaling concrete dust for several hours. His belly ached, but he hadn’t had anything in it except toilet water for hours. He hunched over at the reminder, a painful stitch hitting him at that exact moment. He was alive, that was all that mattered, and he had his arms around two beautiful girls to boot. Danny was doing his damnedest to keep his virtual glass half full rather than half empty, he truly was. He was an old dog learning new tricks. He could take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh. This time, with Steve’s words still ringing in his ears, he was signing a new lease on life. He was.

Danny leaned a little heavier against Amber. She murmured something, he didn’t know what. The sun beat down on the top of his head. While it was a hell of a lot cooler in the great wide open space, the brightness and surface heat were making him feel woozy, and the relief at being out so stark it had apparently left him slightly addlepated.

“When she … when Amber came to get me at school, I was so scared, Danno,” Grace said. 

“I’m okay, Monkey,” Danny said, ignored the way she wrinkled her nose – either at the nickname, the way he stank or maybe his obvious lie, he couldn’t tell. “Really. Scrapes and bruises, that’s all. A nice, long shower and I’ll be good as new.”

Grace still didn’t look convinced, her face a little pale. She shouldn’t even be there, yet he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at Amber for bringing her. Danny smiled and hoped for reassuring rather than gruesome. Based on how shitty McGarrett looked, he had no doubt he himself appeared even more awful by sheer virtue of Steve being Steve and him being him. Danny doubted anything he could do looking like he did would make Grace feel better. 

He glanced toward Steve, saw him talking to Chin and Kono. He wanted suddenly to take the blame game he’d employed down there back, take back all of his defeatist commentary fueled by deep-seated desperation and, to be honest, that little something that always percolated right below the surface when it came to his feelings for Steve. Feelings that didn’t matter, not with Catherine. Not with Amber, now. Take Amber, Steve had told him. Take Amber and be happy with her. Steve had said that. _Steve._

The problem was Danny knew it wouldn’t work with anyone while his happiness was already tied to someone he could never realistically be with. It was the exact embodiment of why his attitude was what it was, having these untenable feelings for someone who loved him as a buddy only. 

His head spun, the unpleasant turn of his brain once again screwing him up. His own innate need self-prophesy the worst end result to everything was bad enough on its own; pairing it with the unresolvable, one-sided pining he had going on for Steve, and he was doomed to … make the best of what goodness he did have. He was going to do that, yes. He felt the brush of Amber’s hair against his arm. She, at least, was solid beneath his touch. He could and would spin this. Steve pushed him to it. It was for the best anyway, because Danny could not bear the idea of starting something with Steve for the fact imagining the horrible ways it would end would kill him. 

Gut. It would gut him.

Well, he’d jokingly corrected Steve that he knew how to _kill_ people, only it wasn’t so much of a joke as pure, simple fact when it came to how quick Steve was to steer him toward other partners. Danny bent at the waist again, caught himself from tipping over. Beyond all of his mental meandering, though, he was starting to flag, physically. He thought maybe the shock of almost dying with Steve down in that dark, dark place was starting to resurge. He could hold it together. He could get it done, he always did. A faint hum, the sound of bees in a distant hive, began in Danny’s ears. No, not bees. Bells. Residual bomb tintinnabulation. He shook his head, lost his balance and stumbled against Amber. 

“Danny?” she said, her arm tightening around him and inadvertently putting pressure on his wound.

He gasped. Hark, how the bells. 

“Adrenaline dump.” 

Danny could barely understand what his own mouth had uttered, so the momentary confusion marring Amber’s big eyes was not a surprise. Huh, though. He could usually talk his way through a tsunami, everyone knew that about him. Steve definitely did. He looked for his partner again, needed him and couldn’t see him anywhere. He swallowed a couple of times, tasted dust and dirt and fear. He knew what it was to approach a wall too fast, knew if he didn’t sit he was going to go down hard. The worst really was knowing it was coming and Grace – he smelled her coconut mango shampoo so close to him – Gracie shouldn’t see him like this. 

“Let’s get you off of your feet,” someone said, voice too deep to be Amber’s. “Detective Williams, hey, hey.”

Wasn’t Grace, either, not his girl’s voice. Grace? Where was … he didn’t know how … oh, shit. Danny couldn’t keep his thoughts together, wondered if duct tape would work. Duct tape and Steve, Steve’s T-shirt. Steve pressed against him, keeping him from falling too far into his doomsday spirals. Always Steve. Huh, maybe his thoughts were together just fine, just wrong and fine, okay, okay. Something tickled at his nose. He opened his eyes – he’d shut them? – and Amber’s face swirled above him. He heard an awful wheezing sound, a dying animal. It was awful, someone should help it, help. He was floating, horizontal. A warm hand on his cheek. Everything refocused slightly.

“I’ve got some rigidity here,” that same voice said, now attached to an intense face of one of the EMTs who’d helped Danny walk clear of the rubble. “And the external bleeding’s picked up on the impalement site.”

“Damn, this is a mess,” someone else said. “They shouldn’ta pulled whatever stuck ‘im out.”

“No shit, but moving around didn’t help him at all, either. BP’s in the crapper, getting worse.”

Jesus, it hurt. Danny lifted his head, had to find … someone. Steve? Grace. Steve. Saw Amber and Grace both huddled with their arms around each other, eyes huge. Oh. And the walls come tumbling, tumbling. He thought for sure Steve should be there with Grace, not Amber. Steve had been there all along, now he was gone. Steve was always there and gone at the same time. Danny started to giggle, couldn’t help it, then trailed off into a series of wracking coughs. Something pressed against his face, he tried to get away from a cool blast of unnatural air. He shivered against a chill, couldn’t stop shaking, each tremor an earthquake of pain. Everything was muddled, his head and heart but, still, he saw the irony in the fact he’d survived being buried alive only to die in the sunshine.

In his heart of hearts, he’d been certain he would have stood by his stance on the matter until his dying day. The problem was, it might just be that and he had done a rapid one-eighty on that age-old overprotective father bit he was so fond of. It was symptomatic of his pessimistic nature. Protect Grace from all the bad things so she didn’t turn out like him, which was dumb because Grace was his sweet girl and he was the one who was fundamentally broken. No, he didn’t want Grace to see him, but he needed to see her. His arm flopped as he was moved bodily by forces he was only partially aware of. Grace. Grace. He watched her break from Amber’s grasp – where was Steve? – and run toward him. He saw tears on her face, saw her mouth moving. He reached out for her.

Everything winked out.

**

Shit. Oh, shit.

He stared at the corpse slumped in the chair, stunned it had actually come down to that. Though he’d known it would have to the moment Cobb had spilled some of the secrets he carried, Steve was still shell-shocked. After going to great lengths to keep Steve from finding anything out, there was no way Cobb would have let anything slip so easily. His brain, sluggish, tried to make it all make sense. Wo Fat, Doris, Joe, now Cobb. Cobb, who had known it was either his last night on this Earth, or Steve’s, probably before Steve had stepped into the room.

The day’s events had been bad enough before, adding this nightmare to it almost tipped him over the edge. Adrenaline had kept him fueled for most of the day, anger had kept him going during his encounter with Cobb. Now it all drained out of him in one rapid flush, realizations catching up with him and making him feel weak as a kitten. This piece of shit had tried to kill him, with Marcus Dekker and Danny as collateral damage. Dekker was bad enough, but Danny? Shakily, he leaned against the window, glanced out into the dark night. All he really saw was the ghost image of himself reflecting back, bruised, bloody, filthy. 

Danny had almost died today, because of _him_. Fuck. Steve bent at the waist, took several deep breaths. Jesus, there was too much piled on top of him, he couldn’t do this. 

He’d picked a fine time for a meltdown. He’d spent all day with Danny the emotional hemophiliac, coaching him on how to live, when Steve always bled just as much. Only difference was he bled internally where no one could see the damage until it was too late. He had no leg to stand on when it came to handling emotions, or pushing people away if they got too close. Cath had gone from practically living with him to a return to a more casual vibe to their relationship. He loved her, he pushed her away. He’d done it with Danny, too. Again. First it was Gabby, perfect-for-Danny Gabby. Now, Amber. He still felt torn up inside at how readily Danny had agreed to make a go of it with Amber. He had no right to claim a single drop of that pain as anything but self-inflicted. 

He blinked numbly at Cobb. Steve needed … he needed to focus and he needed help with it. He needed Danny here. He reholstered his weapon and pulled out his cell. He frowned at the screen when it didn’t come to life, realized the battery had drained after a long, hard day’s work. Steve couldn’t use Cobb’s phone – he heard Danny’s voice ranting at him about integrity of the crime scene. Jesus, no matter how hard he pushed Danny toward someone else physically, mentally he was _right there_. Danny was who he needed and, of course, even if Steve had a phone, his partner’s phone was probably buried under three hundred tons of concrete and steel or his partner himself was already halfway to Maui. With Amber. 

Both thoughts left Steve feeling awful. One was a reminder of their horrific experience of being trapped alive, and the other that Danny was off, with his encouragement, making life-changing happy times with someone who wasn’t him. He was quite possibly the second most screwed up person he knew, only a fraction of an inch behind Danny. Actually, no, he thought with a mental shake. He was ahead of Danny. Here he was sharing space with a dead former company man and his thoughts were more riveted on things he had no business thinking under the best of circumstances, things he’d deliberately refrained from contemplating for the better part of four years.

Things like how much he wanted to be part of Danny’s sustained happiness, but didn’t know how.

He shook himself bodily, forced his rubbery legs to hold him up. He headed for the door, turning at the last moment to glare at Cobb one more time, half expecting the man to return to life. When he turned back, Steve startled at the sight of Lou Grover standing there in the shadowy hallway, a deep frown on his face.

“Steve,” Lou said. 

“Lou.” Steve clenched his jaw, visions of Pat Jameson suddenly dancing in his head. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see that it was self-defense.” Lou glanced at Cobb, then nodded at a spot on the far wall. “You okay?”

Steve nodded, then shook his head. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he was. Okay wasn’t the right word. Stunned. Angry. But he was who he was, and he wasn’t going to let any of it beat him. He’d had his breakdown, now it was time to pull his shit together. He stared stupidly at the small bullet hole Lou had pointed out, a wild shot he hadn't even heard from Cobb's gun. 

“You followed me.”

“Your phone’s off,” Lou said, a strange expression on his face. He took a breath. “We tried to reach you and when we couldn’t, I got elected to come after you.”

Oh, Steve knew that look. He remembered it in exquisite, horrific detail as the exact look the cop that had knocked on the front door when he was barely sixteen had been wearing. Pulling his shit together took a sideline to the faint ringing suddenly in his ears.

“Just after you and Catherine both left the scene, Danny went down.”

“What?” Steve asked, hoarse. He took a step backward. “What do you mean, down?”

“From what I got, they think internal bleeding.” Lou shook his head. “I don’t know how bad, man, but you should get to Queen’s. I got this. Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go see your partner.”

Steve did. He had no true recollection of getting himself there, just that from one blink to the next and a million mental iterations of _but he was fine_ later he was standing in the emergency department. The lights were bright, the noise muffled by the hollow sound of his own breaths in his ears, and the chaos likely more controlled than it seemed to him. Once he fully understood he was there, he quickly tracked the waiting area, saw Kono, her hair still disheveled and dusty, with Grace tucked against her side. He stood motionless, suffering a momentary bout of uncertainty.

Something hit him at waist level, solid and warm and shaking like a newborn foal, yanked him out of his daze. Steve brought his hand to the back of Grace’s head, held her closer to him as she clung. He looked at Kono, now standing next to him, while Grace seemed like she would never let go. 

“Grace. It’s going to be okay, Gracie,” Steve said, though he knew she wouldn’t be fooled so easily. He needed to say the words, needed them to be true. He frowned. “The others?”

“Can’t get ahold of Cath yet,” Kono said softly. “Chin and Amber are back with Danny. He woke up a few minutes ago, apparently agitated. The doctors thought someone could calm him down before they take him up to surgery.”

Steve rubbed Grace’s back as she shuddered, looked at the emergency room doors separating him from his partner. He didn’t even know what had happened, only that he’d never wanted this feeling, but now that he had it, he also never wanted to let it go. One way or another, it might be too late. He wondered if maybe he had been the collateral damage all along, not Dekker. Not Danny, oh shit, Danny could not die. 

“Boss.”

Steve saw Chin push through those doors, his face drawn. Oh shit. He braced for the inevitable, another person he loved gone. But then Chin’s expression shifted into relief.

“I was coming to see if Grover had found you,” Chin said. He touched Grace’s shoulder, deftly maneuvered her back into Kono’s care. “They think he’s gonna be fine, but you should get back there.”

Planting a quick kiss on the top of Grace’s head first, Steve then stalked quickly into the bowels of the emergency room. It wasn’t difficult to find Danny – he seemed to have some sort of natural GPS for the guy. He paused, though, at Amber hovering, pale and so young, at the gurney which held his partner. Danny was restless, legs moving, hands scrabbling, and the pained sounds … Jesus, someone should be helping him. Steve hurried to the right side of the gurney, saw Danny’s eyes half open but not registering.

“He,” Amber said, then swallowed. “He keeps saying your name. You and Grace. Over and over.”

Steve's heart did a Danny-sized flip.

“Hey, partner, I got you,” Steve said. He captured Danny’s right hand. “I’ve got you now.”

Danny stilled, attention landed on Steve, and squeezed his fingers. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Maybe, Steve allowed himself to think as he looked at their joined hands, both of them had come already damaged and it was only together they could begin repairs.


	2. Lucky Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now also coda-ish for 4.20. No pot was smoked during the writing of this chapter.

Everyone kept telling Danny he was a lucky man, a lucky, lucky man. Lucky his leg didn’t get crushed under that giant hunk of concrete, lucky the rebar that had impaled him didn’t cause him to bleed out, lucky the internal damage only happened when the secondary, smaller collapse had aggravated his existing injuries. The only thing he remembered with any true clarity from the time he emerged squinting in the sunlight at the explosion site to when he re-emerged squinting in the bright hospital room light was the vow to begin his new, positive take on life, therefore he was choosing to believe his luck was, in fact, good. Feeling like unadulterated, hammered shit was a far cry better than dead, of course, so there was that. 

He sighed, tipped his face to the sun and soaked in the rays. Maui was gorgeous. He hadn’t seen much of it these last few days, most of his time spent sleeping and relaxing, and didn’t care if he saw any of it on their last full day. The original intent behind the trip had been medically contraindicated by his doctor, but he didn’t mind that so much, either. When it came down to it, Danny was only human and he’d _rather_ be going at it like frantic rabbits, yet there was something to be said in just being, for recuperating in peace and quiet, long days lounging in the sun, listening to the surf he’d never admit he now found almost soothing. 

The clink of ice against a glass and the slight slapping sound of flip-flops had him open his eyes to take in Amber’s approach from the small beachside cottage he’d rented. He grinned as she handed him the glass of iced tea, reached for her elbow. 

“Thanks, babe,” he said, pulling Amber down for a quick kiss, which landed just to the left of her mouth as she turned her head slightly.

“You got it.” Amber settled onto the lounger next to his, gave him a quick smile and slipped her sunglasses on. “You’re looking a little pink, Jersey.”

Danny nodded, thought about making a comment on how he’d have a weird tan line from the large bandage on his abdomen and wrap it up with a suggestion she could put sunscreen on him again, but changed his mind as he watched Amber turn her face away. He frowned, and not for the first time. He would swear, pre building collapse, their chemistry had been amazing. She was completely gorgeous, he thought to himself as he studied her profile, and sweet, smart and fun. She was perfect, really, which made the newfound awkwardness between them very puzzling to him. He knew that there’d been something there to grow between them, and he wanted it so much. Since they’d arrived on Maui, though, she’d been different, friendly but distant at the same time.

He’d chalk it up to an inability to cope with the dangers of his job, but Amber had her own fraught history and they’d started their relationship over a hospital bed as she’d recovered from a gunshot wound. Danny couldn’t reconcile the idea that one incident (granted, it was a pretty damned big incident) would cool her off like this. Or, maybe all of these seedlings of doubt were his well-ingrained negative outlook trying to break through, overshadow his determination to keep on the sunny side. 

He took a sip of the tea and set it down on the table between them. He smiled as Amber, otherwise unmoving, stretched out her hand and found his, slotted their fingers together. Yeah, Danny thought, it was had to all be in his messed-up, abnormal head. He drifted into a light doze, lulled into it by the heat of the sun, the bare but real connection. 

“You’re a great guy,” Amber whispered just before Danny fell totally asleep. Her fingers squeezed his, a gentle, quick pressure and release. “I want you to know that.”

Her voice pulled him out of his haze, sank in with a familiar weight. Oh. Danny opened his eyes, looked at Amber and saw his own pathetic reflection in her huge sunglasses. He let go of her hand, eased into a sitting position with a wince he hoped covered that virtual gut-punch feeling he’d just experienced. 

“That … sounds a lot like the beginnings of an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech,” Danny said slowly, tucking his right arm against his broken ribs. 

“It’s not. I mean, come on, look at me. It’s not me.” Amber tipped her head and smiled, clearly meaning it as a flip joke. The problem was her tone was serious as well as a little sad. She sat as well, faced him, nudged his leg with her perfectly pedicured foot. “All kidding aside, I really like you, Danny.”

“Okay.” He unwound his arm from around his own torso, took both of her hands in his, thumbs automatically tracing circles. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, because I really like you too.”

While relieved that this might not be what it appeared to be after all, the fact was that Amber had probably had whatever was on her mind the whole time they’d been on Maui. Potentially even before that, Danny thought, remembering now the sometimes odd expressions that would flit across her face while he was still confined in the hospital. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately and haven’t wanted to admit it, but I have to now.” Amber took a deep breath. “I’ve come to the conclusion that no matter how much I want this to work, it’s not going to. I think, considering everything, that we should just be really good friends.”

Danny blinked, then blinked again at the cliché his life had suddenly become. The ‘just friends’ card wasn’t any better than the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ card. Strangely, that wasn’t what really stuck in his head.

“What do you mean,” he said carefully, “considering everything?”

Amber pulled her hands free of his, wrapped her arms around her stomach, like they were moving in mirror image reverse. She looked quite a lot younger than she was, barely out of her teens, nervous and not at all like the self-assured spitfire he’d come to know. 

“Well,” Amber said. She chewed on her lip for a moment. “I just realize there’s someone else in your life that’s already more important to you than what we _could_ have someday.”

Unbidden, the image of Steve’s face covered in concrete dust, sweat and blood cropped up into Danny’s memory. _I love you too, buddy_ became _I love you too_ , then simply _I love you_ looped, a mental remnant of a voice gruff with affection, layered with something more. Then another image of that face, cleaned this time, but worried and hovering above him, a strong sensation of his hand being held, anchored. Danny shook his head. He didn’t, he couldn’t allow himself the fantasy of Steve now that he’d made the decision to be happy with Amber. And apparently all of his intentions meant jack shit.

What was the _point_ of making this change in his life if it got him to the same damned miserable place anyway?

“I still don’t know what you mean,” Danny said stupidly.

“Jersey, you’re a detective. A good one. Don’t forget, I have firsthand knowledge of your skills and you know exactly what I am saying.” Amber bumped his legs apart, knelt between them. She lifted her sunglasses off her nose, perched them on top of her head. Exposed, her eyes were large and full of emotion. “Now it’s you who has to admit it.”

She leaned forward and kissed him, gentle at first, then he closed his eyes as it turned into something more desperate. Danny got the definitive sense it meant she didn’t want to let him go. Somehow, that made him feel four hundred times worse, but as he kissed her his brain routed inappropriately to Steve again. He chased after her lips when she finally drew back, opened his eyes and didn’t see Steve but did see regret in Amber’s delicate features.

“I’m serious about the friendship thing. I don’t want to lose you, I want you to stay in my life, okay? You _are_ a great guy,” Amber said with a wobbly smile. She looked away for a second, brushed a knuckle under her right eye and sniffed. “Plus, I need my east coast fix, huh? Someone to keep me sane here.”

Danny rubbed his lips, said nothing but managed a nod. His head spun with what seemed to him like a sudden turnaround. He wanted to understand what he was missing, what he had missed somewhere along the way but she had picked up on. He wanted to make it work with her, and he was sure he’d given no other impression. He thought now of how she was in the hospital, the uncomfortable looks, expanded that to everything else that had happened since he’d woken up. 

There had been nothing unusual, unless he counted Steve having to explain gunning down an ex-CIA spook the same day a building had almost taken them both out. Which he did not, because for Steve that was normal. His stomach roiled at the thought, then settled as another one took its place. This one was Steve holding his hand again, feeling like that contact was a lifeline. It was everything. And Amber was there too, watching, separate. 

Oh. 

“See?” Amber’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “That didn’t take long.”

“What?” Danny said, hoarse.

“Steve’s written all over your face and you don’t have any idea, do you?” She traced a fingertip along the fresh scars on his forehead, his cheek. “You have never once looked at me quite like that, and he’s not even here. I can’t compete with that. I don’t want to.”

Danny wanted to deny it, wanted to tell her it didn’t matter if it were true, that he was committed to making their time together good. Happy. He couldn’t deny anything, it wouldn’t be fair. She wasn’t wrong. If he catalogued all the moments during his recovery when he felt most ready to push through, it was when Steve was there with him. His whole damn life ever since he met the guy was like that. He swallowed a few times, mouth dry. His throat clicked.

Amber smiled, though sadness still tinged around the edges. She brushed her hand down his shoulder, stood and walked into the cottage.

Oh, what a lucky man Danny was.

**

Steve didn’t think it surprised anyone when his handshake with Lou turned into an impromptu arm-wrestling match. He thought of it as a precursor to the main spearfishing event, and the distraction after the headiness of thwarting the terrorism plot was a blessing. He enjoyed the buzz of victory as he slammed Lou’s hand to the table, fueled by testosterone, beer and … another distraction, that look of Danny’s. The one his partner was still giving him, eyes sparkling with mischief, life and – this part might be in his own head – loaded with something he didn’t have a definition for yet. He played his part, grinned smugly as everyone cheered and Danny kept grinning, just the corners of his mouth upturned, like he was holding in a secret. He thought Danny knew precisely what he was doing, spurring Steve on without so much as a word.

“I gave that one to you so you don’t feel bad when I spear the bigger fish,” Lou said.

“Of course you did.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Naturally.”

That was the difference, he thought, from the blatant dick measuring he did with Lou – open bluff and bluster meant to alleviate that inner itch he had when it came to Danny. Danny had somehow become the subtle one, the one who continued to barb at Steve and call him on his bullshit, but without the excessive antics. With one it was a surface competition, with the other it was a challenge without a need to show himself as the better man. The one-upmanship wasn’t necessary with Danny and while there was conceit, there was also something deeper. Steve already knew Danny was the better man, major flaws and all, if for no other reason that he made Steve strive to be better himself, just by being who he was. 

“To Lou,” Steve said, lifting his beer high. “May his delusions make the impending defeat at my hands all the sweeter for me.” 

He felt the heat of Danny’s gaze as it continued to burn a hole right through him. Steve returned his partner’s stare, tipped the bottle of beer to his lips, raised an eyebrow. 

“ _Salute_ ,” Danny murmured, but he didn’t drink. 

Danny had come back from Maui different. It was good. It was. Danny had done well with his vow to make it work with Amber, a tangible step to let go of the overwhelming dread and dark cloud he’d admitted to carrying his entire life. Steve should feel bad about the snark he’d unleashed earlier about doubting Danny’s ability to do just that, which had been a total renege of the support he’d initially given. When that support had been a mechanism to keep Danny functioning, buried deep beneath the surface of a parking garage, that was one thing. Living it and practicing it was something else altogether, because he _wanted_. So much. He’d come so close to explaining to Danny that he’d had a heart-to-heart with Cath, that he’d always be there for her, but that they weren’t together anymore. With Danny happy with Amber, he couldn’t do that and his disappointment was intense. 

He should have known Danny wouldn’t do anything other than pursue that relationship. Despite Danny’s doom and gloom nature, he was nothing if not tenacious. He bitched and moaned all the while getting the job done, no matter what and that was what made him so complex and attractive on a basic, human level. Danny’s mouth said one thing and his actions said the opposite; time after time, this was so. Danny kvetched and moaned about back-up, then had Steve’s six despite his often valid misgivings. Ultimately, Danny always seemed to feed off of Steve’s prodding antagonism, much the same way he himself relied on some of Danny’s pragmatic negativity to balance when he went a little wild. It was what had made him think they needed to work together on more than a professional level. 

He flicked his attention to Danny yet again, moth to flame, heart thumping a little at the happy smile on his partner’s face. The thing was, what he needed and what Danny needed were two different things, Steve realized now, and he didn’t begrudge his partner the contentment he had found with someone else. Bottom line for him remained Danny’s happiness, so he had to do what he did best – repress. He could bury his own feelings the same way he buried everything he knew he couldn’t fix by himself. He had to focus on the fact he was lucky to have Danny at all, even if it wasn’t the exact way he wanted.

A loud clatter directly behind him tossed him out of his mental meanderings into a veritable mess of flashing sounds and pictures. A land mine exploding, the crack of the shot that took Freddie down, the deafening silence after the shot that killed Dad, the resounding boom of a building falling on top of him and Danny. It swirled together into the lingering dread of losing someone else he loved. 

In the commotion following a common mishap, Steve made a break for the men’s room. Once inside, he grabbed the edge of the sink and held on tight with his left hand. He turned the cold tap on and let it run for a minute before he collected water in his right hand, trying to quell the shakes. It wasn’t usually like this, his primary issues happening in his nightmares. He ignored the sound of the door opening and closing. 

“Hey,” Danny said after Steve had finished dousing his face. “Server dropped a tray.”

“Yeah.” Steve stared at the mirror above the sink, watched Danny in reverse. 

“You all right? You looked like thirty shades of crap for a second there.”

Danny had his hands in his pockets, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his biceps. His eyes were serious, gaze piercing.

“I’m fine, Danny.”

“Bullshit. You think the people that care about you – people like me – don’t notice when you’re not fine? Give us some credit, McGarrett.”

“Where’s Amber?” Steve said, because this one thing about him he couldn’t share with Danny, not this. He couldn’t take the risk it would be too much. “I’m surprised to not see her tonight.”

Danny made a face, the ponderous one where his lower lip jutted out just a little. His eyes were soft as he tilted his head to the side and gave a bare smile.

“Nice deflection. This isn’t about me. I want to talk about you, see if I can help.”

Steve shook his head, lips tightening into a thin line. 

“You can’t.”

Danny looked like he might argue, but he didn’t utter a word while Steve grabbed a wad of paper towels, dried his face and hands, then headed for the door. Danny stood in his way, stubborn set to his jaw. For a few long moments, they stood too close.

“Amber,” Danny said. “She and I, well, we decided we should just be good friends.”

Steve frowned, furrowed his eyebrows. His heart skipped a beat.

“But Maui?”

“Was not as much of a success as I wanted you to believe. You were being an ass.” Danny shrugged. He didn’t seem upset. “It’s okay. I’m okay with it, because she said something I haven’t been able to forget and she was right.”

“About what?”

“Are you going to tell me what that was back there?” Danny jerked his head, indicating the restaurant floor. “You’re really great at getting other people to spill their guts, you know, but when it comes to you… well, I shouldn’t have to tell you that there is literally nothing you could tell _me_ that would make me run.”

Steve’s head spun at the way this conversation was shooting off in strange directions. He saw complete truth in Danny’s face, an example of a time when his partner’s words and actions aligned.

“I know,” Steve said softly. “But in this case, there really isn’t anything you can do except what you already do.”

Danny pulled his hands out of his pockets, spread his arms wide. 

“Which is?” 

“Be who you are.”

“That’s pretty vague,” Danny said. He let his left arm fall, and his right reached for Steve. “Luckily for you, I think I can manage that.”

Danny’s hands were small, Steve thought, but strong, and the one on his forearm was very warm. He didn’t shake it off, didn’t take the opportunity to turn this into a verbal sparring match to ease the tension. Up this close, he could count the freshly-sprouted freckles spattered across Danny's nose and cheekbones.

“In order to do it, I’m going to need to know something, though.” Danny’s thumb traced a circle, slow and soothing. 

There were always strings. Steve frowned.

“What’s that?”

“When you tell me you love me, do you mean it?” Danny asked, eyes clear and blue and … uncertain. 

He didn’t know how to answer that question. It felt loaded, as loaded as that look Danny had sported before, which was such a direct contrast to his hesitation now. Steve didn’t make a decision so much as his body did, hands tugging Danny close, mouth giving the answer without words. For a split second, there was no reaction and he almost panicked, but then Danny pressed against him, parted his lips. Hot and sweet, desperate and lazy, everything all at once. That was how he’d describe the kiss. Relief. Perfection. He stumbled a little and ended up on his knees when the kiss ended, arms still wrapped around Danny’s lower back.

“Well, some clichés are definitely better than others,” Danny said. 

Steve chuckled, a half-choked sound, burrowed his nose into Danny’s navel, and held on for sheer, amazing luck.


End file.
